


I Wanna Learn A Love Song

by quixotic_cervantes



Series: Story of a Life [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Infidelity, M/M, Musician Castiel (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:06:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27360160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quixotic_cervantes/pseuds/quixotic_cervantes
Summary: Castiel never would have guessed his new gig teaching guitar would change his life forever.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Story of a Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1998310
Kudos: 13





	I Wanna Learn A Love Song

Castiel looked up from the paper in his hand to the large house before him. The address matched, for certain, but why anyone in this neighborhood would decide to hire someone from “the street” to give guitar lessons he couldn’t even imagine. 

Castiel hadn’t actually met this client, he’d contacted him via Craigslist. He’d been a little high when listening to the message. Work had been slower- as it usually was in the summer with no cabin fever to drive them to new hobbies- and he felt like a good buzz would go farther than a meal. 

He was in the middle of a gated community. Soulless identical houses lined the street; luxury SUVs and sedans in each driveway surrounded by pristine lawns. His beat up Lincoln Continental probably would have fit in during the 70s, but the gold exterior in particular had definitely gone out of style. 

His oversized suit- purchased for the few times he visited more affluent clients- was hidden under a ragged trench coat. Much like his car, he likely could have blended in once upon a time but now served only to blemish the neighborhood. 

Sighing, he grabbed his guitar case from the back seat and closed the door. He tried his best to stay positive as he walked those few steps to the front door, but he wasn’t optimistic about this becoming a regular gig.

Knocking, he waited patiently to be given entrance. When the door swung open, he blinked at the nothing before him. Finally, he looked down and saw a young boy staring at him with wide green eyes. 

He cleared his throat, “Uh, I’m looking for a Shirley?” The boy blinked and seemed about to respond when a deep voice called down the hall.

“Daniel! You know better than to answer the door without me or your father!” 

Castiel looked up into the face of a man who had clearly been cloned to create the young boy in front of him. Bright green eyes, dark blond hair, freckles spattered over tanned skin. He had probably said something Castiel hadn’t acknowledged while staring at him, but there was little care in his heart as he continued to take in the masterpiece before him.

His brain, however, was quick to remind him he needed this job, and the way the man was clearly trying to guide the child behind him without drawing attention to the motion was less than promising.

“Uh, sorry, my name is Castiel. A man named Michael called about giving guitar lessons to a Shirley? Are you Michael?” 

The man before him looked a little confused before laughing. “My husband’s name is Michael Shurley. He called about giving me lessons. Name’s Dean, Winchester.” He held out his hand for Castiel to shake.

Too bad Castiel was paralyzed by embarrassment, his face going crimson as he processed the mistake he’d made.

Dean looked uncomfortable again, hand still extended. He slowly began to drop his arm, jolting Castiel into motion. He reached out, grabbing Dean’s hand in a shake he knew was far too vigorous, but couldn’t very well abort now.

“Apologies Mr. Winchester. My name is Castiel and I believe we have our first lesson today.”

He enjoyed the way red crept up the man’s face- highlighting his freckles and making his green eyes shine brighter- the longer they shook hands. Finally, Dean broke contact- clearing his throat in some ill-fated attempt to break the tension.

“Come on in,” he said, stepping aside to allow Castiel entry into the McMansion. 

The boy, Daniel, scrambled out of his father’s way from his oh-so-secretive spying location behind the man’s legs. “Daddy!” he cried, sounding as indignant as a preschooler could be. 

Dean laughed and picked him up as he led the way down the hallway. “Sorry, Squirt! You know better than to hide under my feet!” 

Castiel stood rooted to the spot far longer than was socially acceptable- paralyzed by the deep ache that had formed the moment he heard Dean’s laughter.  _ Fuck me _ , he thought despairingly- how unfair that such a man was already taken. Finally he managed to pry himself away from the doorway, hurrying to catch up to the two without bumping his guitar case against any of the unblemished white walls and random furniture.

The hallway led into a living room with marble tables and grey couches and armchairs- complete with sharp rectangular lines- to make sure it was devoid of any warmth. 

Dean set the boy down, watching for a moment as he ran into an adjacent room, a wistful look on his face. He shook his head lightly, turning towards Castiel with a wry smile “Sorry, gathering cobwebs.”

He gestured to the room around them with a shrug and wave of his hand.

“We’ll be having our lessons in here- it’s not as comfortable as the den, but Michael likes to use that to teach the boys ‘man things’” he rolled his eyes, mumbling “whatever that means.”

Castiel simply nodded along, curious at the darkness seemingly threatening to overtake all the light he’d seen from Dean so far. He looked, small, somehow. The room around swallowing him up despite his height and broadness. 

Dean walked towards the room the boy had run into, gesturing for Castiel to follow him. Knocking, he waited before a commanding voice called out “Enter.”

Dean pushed through the door and stuck his head in, “Michael, Castiel is here for my first guitar lesson. We’ll just be in the living room.”

Castiel couldn’t quite hear the response, trying not to eavesdrop, but he was certain he heard a huff. Suddenly, Dean stood at attention as the door was flung open. Holding the door was a man of similar build to Dean- tall and clearly strong. His dark hair contrasting against lightly tanned skin made his pale eyes stand out. 

Truly, he was an intimidating man. He raised an eyebrow as he took in Castiel’s appearance, obviously finding him wanting as his demeanor shifted to irritation. “You’ll have a two week trial period. If I am unsatisfied with Dean’s progress you will be dismissed and replaced.” 

Castiel fought the urge to laugh in this man’s face. Because, really, what the fuck? Instead, he merely nodded, and shifted his guitar case to hold out his hand “Understood, I look forward to working with Dean and I hope you find my services suitable.”

Michael scoffed and closed the door in both their faces with a decisive push.

Dean sighed, “Sorry about him, he’s been really stressed about work lately.”

Castiel chose not to give his own opinions about the man he’d just met, and instead nodded towards the couches, “Let’s get started.”

That first week was interesting. Dean explained he’s actually learned a little bit before- he’d forgotten even the basics, but his muscle memory helped his technique, no matter how stiff he was at first. His fingers were nimble, and when Castiel remarked on it Dean shrugged off the praise with a blush and some excuse about changing diapers.

So went their second session as well. Dean determinedly practicing and learning the various notes and chords. Castiel had never seen a more dedicated student, especially one with a spouse and children.

It was at the end of their third session- Castiel having gained Michael’s permission to continue- that Dean revealed his motivation for lessons.

Castiel was leaning against the back of the couch, leg bent up and curled under him, his knee poking out of a hole in his jeans (thank Christ Dean had teased him about the suit; Castiel could barely afford to wash the damn thing), correcting Dean’s finger placements for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour. 

Dean had been fidgeting all session, clearly distracted. “Uh, Cas?”

He raised an eye at the nickname, certain no one had ever used that one before, and nodded.

Dean scrubbed his hand across the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable in his own skin and was silent for a long moment. Finally he huffed, and seemed to steel himself- sitting taller and making direct eye-contact for the first time all lesson.

“Michael’s and my anniversary is in a couple of months, I’d really like to learn a song I can play for him...you know, like a love song.”

Castiel tried not to feel disappointed, Michael had led two boys and a young girl out of the den about halfway through his time with Dean- his posture perfect and the children following like they were soldiers following a general rather than children spending time with their father. Castiel suspected he would never care for the man-let alone understand how someone like Dean, bright and beautiful and hilarious, could possibly love him. 

“Did you have something in mind?”

Dean bit his lip, “Do you write songs, Cas?”

Oh, Castiel could write sonnets about the man before him. Had possibly already begun a third song in his head to add to the other two already in progress- more inspired each week he spent with Dean. He nodded.

Dean smiled brightly, looking as if that had been the answer to his more recent prayers. “Awesome! Could you teach me one? Please?”

He really couldn’t. Couldn’t open himself to this client who was married. This client who was a father. Who was dedicated to learning, and beautiful, and so unattainable. This man who Castiel had seen more disappointment from in three weeks than he ever should have. But instead of doing the wise thing- dismissing himself and recommending a new teacher- he found himself smiling back and agreeing. 

Each week Castiel returned, his song a little more fleshed out. He would play it over and over, Dean following slowly at first before his fingers would pause and he’d just sit, listening to Cas strum the melody and sing what lyrics he did have completed. 

He was nervous, every week hyper-aware of Michael and the kids in the den. He played normally, but sang softly enough he suspected even Dean had difficulty hearing him. 

Truthfully, he was scared- Dean was no longer being diligent in his practicing and Castiel wouldn’t put it past Michael to throw him out if he caught Dean listening to him rather than playing himself. But stolen glances gave him glimpses of stars in Dean’s eyes and he couldn’t give it up.

He was a little surprised when Dean rescheduled their normal lesson time to later in the evening that Thursday. Arriving he was certain no one was home- there were no lights on. Still, he rang the doorbell.

He waited a long time, far longer than usual anyway. He turned to leave, pulling out his phone to double-check he had the details correct. He was nearly at his car when he heard the door open, forcefully hitting the wall and Dean calling out his name.

He turned to see Dean standing out on his porch, hair wet and shirt in disarray as if he’d just thrown it on. He was breathing heavily, clearly flustered. He seemed to calm as Castiel turned back towards the house, making his way back to the entryway.

Dean nodded, clearing his throat and looking at anything that wasn’t Cas. “Sorry, I lost track of time. Let’s just...go get started.”

Without waiting for a reply he turned towards the house, not waiting for Castiel to catch up. After removing his shoes and coat, Castiel headed towards the living room. 

Castiel paused at the sight of the door to the den: swung wide open with no sign of Michael or the children.

Dean followed his gaze, a hand going to the back of his neck. “Yeah, uh, Michael’s brother was in town. Took the kids to a baseball game. They’re thrilled- get to stay up past their bedtime.”

Castiel didn’t dare ask why Dean hadn’t gone with them. Surely they could have done this another night. Even another time today- it’s not like Castiel has much going on. 

Dean led them to the same couch they’d been using for weeks, the room so similar save for the dark and silent den.

Castiel followed Dean’s lead, first going to sit on the couch as always, then going through a minor warm up to see how Dean had been doing over the week. He watched Dean fumble simple chords he’d mastered weeks ago, dropping his pick repeatedly, and speaking more quietly than ever- and only apologies.

Finally, Castiel couldn’t take it anymore, setting his guitar aside he grabbed for Dean’s and took it. Dean’s head shot up, jaw clenched and apprehension filling his gaze.

Castiel spoke softly, as if Dean were a scared animal. “Dean, is everything okay?”

Dean gave a jerky, angled nod, closing his eyes tightly and releasing a breath he’d clearly been holding for quite a while. “Yeah, I just...I’m not really feeling up to playing, you know?”

Castiel’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. “If you’d like I can leave? We can-” 

“NO!”

Castiel blinked in shock, Dean looking as if it wasn’t him who had just shouted at someone, running a hand over his face like he did when searching for the right words and frustrated that he couldn’t find them. 

“No, Cas, just...could you play? Maybe it will help inspire me.”

Filled with doubt, Castiel set down Dean’s guitar and grabbed his own again. The first note he played surprised him. He didn’t go for the song he’d been teaching Dean, but another he’d written about the captivating man before him. 

He tried to ignore Dean’s wide eyes, shining with tears neither wanted him to shed. Instead watching his own fingers intensely.

They sat in silence after Castiel finished the final chord, his knuckles white from the fierce grip he kept on the guitar, knowing he couldn’t trust himself should he let go.

But when Dean gently reached over to take the guitar from him he was powerless. Any fight left him as he looked up, nose brushing against Dean's, his face was so close. 

Without another thought, he leaned in.

\---

Castiel stood brushing his teeth, staring at his reflection in the mirror and the wide grin that hadn’t left his face since Thursday. Being with Dean was unlike anything else he’d experienced, leaving an irrepressible giddy feeling bubbling inside him. Just thinking about the possibilities ahead of him filled him with joy like he was a teenager experiencing his first love. He had sent a few texts over the weekend, though he hadn’t heard from Dean, but he was looking forward to discussing their future together during their next lesson in a couple days. Dean was busy with three children, and had likely had an emotional weekend talking with Michael. 

His phone jingled with his text notification and he spit into the sink and wiped his face before looking- smiling wider when he saw Dean’s name. He quickly pulled up the text and felt his stomach drop at the contents, his body following as his legs went numb and stopped supporting him.

_ I won’t be taking guitar lessons anymore. I’ll make sure Michael gets you a check for this week. Thanks for everything Cas.  _

No. That couldn’t be right. Could it? After everything? It’s over and this is how Dean tells him? Something was clearly wrong, or was Castiel being selfish believing that could be the only explanation?

He immediately dialed Dean’s number, dread filling him further as it was ignored. Call after call ending as soon as it connected until, finally, there was an answer.

“Dean? What-” Cas knew he sounded desperate, but the man on the other end wouldn’t let him continue.

“We won’t be requiring your services any further, Mr. Novak. I’ll make sure to get you your final check, but you will cease calling my husband.” Michael’s usually cold tone sounded even worse through the phone, Castiel decided. That it was telling him Castiel’s world was crashing down around him was probably only part of the reason. 

“Mr. Shurley-” he tried again, only to be met with silence. He looked at his phone to confirm Michael had hung up on him. 

A week later, on a chance drive by he saw Dean’s car leaving the house. Following behind, he parked haphazardly and scrambled out of the car.

“Dean” he called out across the supermarket parking lot, seeing Dean halt and tense “Please, please talk to me.” 

“There’s nothing to say, Cas. I’m married, I have three kids. It was a mistake.”

_ A mistake _

Castiel shook his head and walked closer “You don’t mean that! You...you can’t.” 

Dean whipped around, face flushed and eyes bright. Around them cold rain fell, but Castiel knew it did nothing to hide his tears, because it did nothing to hide Dean’s. 

“Dean,” he whispered as he cradled Dean’s face. He kissed him desperately, knowing that if Dean refused him again he would walk away but needing one last taste of happiness.

Instead Dean clung to him, sobbing out how much he missed him and kissing promises of forever against Castiel’s freezing skin. 

\---

_ Six years later _

Cas cuddled Jack to him. “I guess you know how this ends. Daddy came to live here with me. Emma and Danny came and later we had Claire, and then you!”

He tickled the young boy, trying hard not to think about those terrible months immediately after their affair. Castiel wished the romantic kiss in the rain had been the end as they told their children.

They didn’t tell them about the in-between: Dean, plagued with guilt and determined not to see Castiel again, had Michael call to cancel future lessons and ignored myriad texts. That Castiel straddled (or, more likely, crossed) the stalker line. He’s not proud of it, but he certainly wouldn’t give up the final result.

The guilt had faded over time, but it had left emotional scars on them all. The worst had come when Dean finally left Michael. The man was incredibly powerful- the son of a senator- and had fought hard to keep Dean from taking the children. 

It took over a year, but eventually Dean was granted custody of Emma and Daniel. Michael, Jr., however, had been 7- and Michael’s lawyers argued he was old enough to choose, and he was ever loyal to the father he so revered. Castiel was heartbroken for Dean. They see him, occasionally, just as Michael sees the younger two sometimes.

It was hard, but when Dean had come to him to tell him they were adding to their family he knew it was worth it. Holding Claire for the first time, surrounded by Dean and their other children he had cried. When Jack was born a few years later it had all felt perfect. 

Jack’s breathing was slow and steady, and Castiel smiled against his fine hair, pressing a kiss to his head before rising from the chair to put him to bed. He had just finished tucking in the covers, moving to place his favorite dinosaur stuffed animal beside him when light from the hallway entered the room.

He turned to see Dean peeking in, a smile on his face. Castiel stood and snuck out of the room behind his husband, following him to their bedroom. He gave Dean a quick kiss before going into their ensuite. Quickly pulling on his sleep pants, he brushed his teeth before heading back to the room, stopping in the doorway at the sight before him.

Dean was on the bed, guitar in hand. He was grinning widely, and motioned for Castiel to sit beside him. 

Once seated, Dean began strumming a tune they both knew well, locking eyes as Dean began singing quietly 

  
“ _ I wanna learn a love song…” _

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the Harry Chapin song "I Wanna Learn a Love Song"!


End file.
